


Lie to Me

by omnenomnom



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aurors, Can a one shot be gradual, Companionable Snark, DMLE, F/M, Good Draco Malfoy, Gradual, Lies, Long Shot, Natural, One Shot, POV Draco Malfoy, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Romance, a bit dark, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:29:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26943703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omnenomnom/pseuds/omnenomnom
Summary: Draco Malfoy actually likes his job in the DMLE. He could do without Granger breathing down his neck but she is quite fun to lie to.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 32
Kudos: 220





	Lie to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> Idk why but I am prolific this week. This one shot is a good read for my Potioneer readers. It has a similar level of character and relationship building. I know it's short but, la vie est courte.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> p.s. No fan art for this one.
> 
> Inspired by a reddit comment on r/HPfanfiction
> 
> Thanks Evan_Th!

Due to a freak accident involving a memo swarm and a legion of irate pixies Draco was late. He did his best to stride swiftly (as Malfoys did not run) through the second floor corridor and through the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The secretary squeaked when he stormed by, holding her papers to her chest as she jumped out of the way.

He stopped outside the debriefing room and took a moment to compile himself. He pushed his hair back and let his face fall into a perpetually bored look. As luck would have it, Weasley was ranting about tactics while scribbling on a board with chalk. He slipped into the room mostly unnoticed and quickly glanced around for a seat.

It was to his eternal suffering that the only seat available was next to the most annoying witch in the department. He scowled and debated the merits of interrupting Weasley’s rant just to avoid sitting next to her. With a long suffering sigh he crept along the back of the room and slipped into the flimsy folding chair next to her. He had almost relaxed when she spoke.

“Running late today, Malfoy?” she questioned primly. A Quick-Quotes Quill carefully recorded the meeting next to her. It wasn’t her job, in fact the secretary was taking his own notes up front, the the pudgy man scrambling to keep up as Weasley turned and gestured wildly to a poorly drawn… pumpkin? Draco thought it was supposed to be a building but buildings didn’t have stems.

“Hardly. You all were just early,” he scoffed, keeping his voice low so no one actually saw him talking to Hermione Granger. Usually anytime they were within five feet of each other Potter, Weasley, or Lovegood appeared to separate them. A natural consequence after their first spat resulted in half the office (and the wizards in it) being dyed a bright, bubblegum pink. 

“I’m sure. My magic must just be running slow.” Granger waved her hand and cast a wandless tempus. The time flashed briefly and she smirked. And people thought he was a show boat.

“You said it, not me.” He pretended to pay attention to the meeting when she frowned.

“You’re such and arse.”

“Ah yes. But a witty arse.”

“You don’t have a clever bone in your body,” she said.

“Well, no. I am well loved for both my body and being clever. Separately of course.”

“You aren’t funny.”

“I highly disagree.”

“You couldn’t make a gigglepus laugh.” She rolled her eyes and looked away. “Now pay attention to the meeting. Like a good boy.”

He bristled at the insult. Little Miss Perfect was the one talking to him, not the other way around. And what did she know about his sense of humor? She never even talked to him. 

He thought for a moment, letting Weasley drone on in the background. An idea burrowed its way into his head, curling around his mind like ivy. A slow smile began to spread on his face. He held it there, waiting.

Eventually she looked over her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“What?”

He ignored her grimace as he grasped her hand lightly between both of his, holding Granger gently as he stared into her eyes. He softened his gaze, appearing genuine and humble as he spoke.

“I have always loved you and only joined the Dark Lord all those years ago because he promised to spare you.”

Her wild laughter tore through the meeting like the killing curse. Weasley immediately drew his wand and all of the aurors spun to her with wide eyes. But Draco had already dropped her hand. He sat shock still, facing forward with only the smallest smirk on his face as she tried to get herself under control.

By the time Weasley got the meeting back on track Draco's grin became genuine as hers became a scowl.

000000000000000000000

When he joined the Auror department five years ago as a Dark Magic Consultant he never dreamed he would stay past his ministry mandated time. However a year later, with most all the surviving Death Eaters in Azkaban, he found himself actually enjoying the work and elected to continue, much to Granger’s apparent annoyance.

“Absolutely not.”

Draco took another bite of his scone.

“Hermione, please,” Potter wheedled.

“Find someone else.”

“But he’s our best curse breaker!”

“I don’t care. Get me Bill.”

“He’s in Africa right now!” Potter’s general whining aside it was a fun match to watch. He was not alone in the sentiment as he had been joined by Weasley, Parks and McManus (who had brought said pastries).

“We can’t be trusted within five feet of each other _in_ the DMLE. What makes you think I will take him on a mission?”

“It’s barely a mission!” Potter cried, shoving his hands through his hair. If he didn’t know better he would have thought that Granger was the boss, not the other way around. “You really just have to escort him.”

“I-”

“Please Hermione… I’ll have Ginny bake those cupcakes you love.”

“Fine!” After a moment’s deliberation Granger threw her hands up in the air. Draco and the rest of the audience politely clapped, causing Granger to turn on them with a glare. Draco met it with a lazy smirk.

“Keep bribing her with desserts and she’s going to get fat.”

“You aren’t helping,” Potter sighed.

“So when are we leaving?” he asked, pushing off the desk. “I promise to be a _good boy_.” 

She rolled her eyes and Weasley snickered, which drew her ire to him. 

“Something to add Ron?”

“Not a thing.” He turned toward Draco and smacked him once on the back. “Good luck ferret, you’ll need it.”

“Thanks weasel,” he responded. “I’ll meet you all at the pub after?”

“If she doesn’t kill you.” Weasley and Potter departed swiftly afterward, leaving him with a highly annoyed guard witch. 

“Grang-”

“I still haven’t forgiven you for that meeting.”

“Seriously?” he balked. “It was weeks ago and you _asked_ me to make you laugh.”

“I did not!”

“Challenged. Asked. Same thing.”

“Keep your mouth shut and maybe you’ll get through this with your bollocks still attached,” she huffed. She spun on her heel and apparated away with a crack. He shook his head and smiled. It would be a fun day.

000000000000000000000000

It was a perfectly standard dark magic curse. Cast on a vase, it kept whatever placed in it alive indefinitely by sucking at the life force of anyone who touched it. He had dismantled it within three hours, much to the pureblooded widow’s pleasure.

“Thank you Auror Malfoy.” The woman patted him on the cheek tearfully as he tried to to extract them politely from her house for the third time. “It was the last present I ever received from my husband before he passed. He didn’t know of course, a dull man but so kind.”

“Yes well I-”

“How is your mother? She must be so proud of you!”

“I remain a dark stain on the line of Malfoy,” he sighed.

“Good. That line could staining, you all are too pale!” 

Granger barked a laugh behind him and the woman continued.

“So nice to see you mingling with witches like Miss Granger too. Quite a powerful team if I do say so myself.”

Draco smiled widely at the woman when Granger made a disgusted noise.

“Just give us a call if you find anything else you need taken care of.” 

It took another half an hour and a promise to owl before they could escape her clutches. By the time they began the walk to the apparition point Draco felt like he had earned his measly paycheck.

“Well Malfoy, I think she’s available," Granger said. "Shall I inform Harry that you will need time off for your impending honeymoon?”

“Oh ha. Bloody ha.” He smirked. “You know I only have eyes for you.”

“Oh really?” She rolled her eyes. He wondered if she knew she was smiling.

“Yes,” he responded, trying to think of something clever. “I have travelled back in time using a time turner to this very moment. If you don’t fall in love with me now, the world as we know it ends.”

“The ministry destroyed all the remaining time turners three years ago," she scoffed.

“The Malfoy’s have a secret one in our vaults?”

“Try again.”

Draco thought for a moment.

“I’ve consulted a Seer of the stars and they have determined that due to the position of Venus and the Cancer constellation at the time of my birth we are destined to be?”

“I hate divination.”

“I’ve been cursed and if you don’t marry me within 24 hours I will die?”

“Then I’ll come to your funeral... I’ll even try to avoid laughing out of respect.”

“You are absolutely frigid, Granger. Did you know that?”

“Only to my enemies.”

“We’ve been working together for five years. I hardly think that we're enemies anymore. Human resources would have a fit.” 

She simply hummed as they reached the apparition point.

“Well, I think we’ve made decent progress in our relationship today.”

“What relationship?” she asked.

“Exactly,” Draco said. “We have gone from enemies to coworkers! Do you think we should send out a registry?”

“I didn’t agree to anything,” she said. She withdrew her wand in preparation for her departure. As far as he was aware, she rarely joined the rest of the DMLE at the pub. When she did she kept as far away from him as possible.

“You didn’t disagree either.”

“I suppose I didn’t.” She stuck out her hand. “Coworkers then?”

He didn’t know why but he smiled widely. The kind of smile that usually only slipped out after multiple drinks and an interaction with George Weasley. 

However, just as he moved to take her hand she smirked and disappeared with a crack, leaving him grinning like an idiot with his hand stuck out towards nothing.

0000000000000000

His night was brutal and his shoulder still twinged in pain every time he moved too quickly. His house elves would probably never be able to get the blood out of his shirt. He really should go see a healer. He had sent his team ahead, refusing to hear any word otherwise. Draco supposed that made him a hypocrite. Instead he had marched straight to Potter's office and gave his report.

It was nasty business. A clan of vampires had been kidnapping muggleborn children and turning them to recover from war losses. Because the Ministry only tracks children _after_ accidental magic, they were taking children as early as six. This became incredibly cruel when one considered that vampires didn’t age at all, meaning the newly turned children would be trapped in the body of a child for thousands of years. 

It was a huge bust and ultimately a success, but it was difficult to celebrate when out of the 8 children recovered, only three remained human. Those ones were obilivated and returned to their parents with scheduled check-ins by the Ministry over the next few years. The ones who weren’t so lucky had no other option but to be obliviated from their parent’s minds and taken into Ministry custody. It was nights like these that made him hate his job.

He was on his way to his office to treat his shoulder with a nice, stiff drink when he noticed a light on the other side of the floor. He knew Granger had led the team opposite his, closing in vampires in from the back, while his team laid waste to the front. He had seen her once in the chaos, somehow holding her own in close quarters with an Elder. The niggling fear that she had been bitten tickled at the back of his mind. If she was out of commission they would be shorthanded until a replacement (that wouldn’t be half as useful) could be found.

He eyed his door wearily, bidding the fifty year Ogden’s bottle in his desk adieu he headed for the beacon. He didn’t bother knocking, she probably wouldn’t have let him in. Instead, he shouldered open the cheap wood and strode confidently into her office. He plopped down into one of the chairs she kept around in case she ever had to speak to families. She would probably be doing a lot of that tomorrow.

“Not now Malfoy.” 

Granger hadn’t even lifted her head from where her hands tangled in the mass of curls she never bothered to shear. He was so used to seeing it tied back into a braid on missions that he had almost forgotten how wild they are.

“No, that’s the desk you are speaking to,” he corrected me. “I’m up here.”

She groaned, drawing her eyes up to meet his. She looked worn out. The kind of bone tired that didn’t happen from just one hard night. He regarded her silently, growing more concerned by the second.

“You aren’t going to leave are you?” she asked. 

“I had planned on it but now my intrapersonal training is kicking in. Do I need to take your wand Granger?” He had said it in a light tone. But the truth of it was that the DMLE had the highest rate of suicides and disappearances in the whole wizarding world. For him the work was hard but not impossible. He had already seen what lies at the bottom of the abyss. For others… well he just hoped that they had someone to pull them up at the end.

“I’m fine. See,” she muttered, pulling herself up from the scratched wood. She plastered on a deeply disturbing smile, bearing an uncanny resemblance to a soul sucking grinfinch. He shivered visibly before speaking.

“That’s the most horrifying thing I have seen all year.”

“It’s not even the most horrifying thing you’ve seen all night,” she responded bitterly.

Silence fell over the room again. He wasn’t sure why he was still there. It seemed like bad form to pick at a target who was already down. He considered going to get Potter to clean her up, but something told him to stay. Seeing as the only way to victory was through compromise, he withdrew his wand. At some point in the past few months she had stopped flinching every time he pulled it out in the office, something he was oddly proud of.

Draco flicked his wrist and called the bottle of firewhiskey from his desk. Her door opened with a soft click and the bottle and two glasses came to a rest in front of her.

“What’s this?”

“Surely you know what alcohol is Granger,” he scoffed, pouring them each a glass.

“Of course I do. But I drink it on the rocks.” She summoned a large ice cube and set it in the glass with a delicate tinkling. 

“Heathen.”

They sat in silence sipping at their respective drinks. He didn’t know if she was too tired to fight or just too tired to care. It occurred to him that they had never just… sat before. There has always been a meeting or mission or event going on around them. He had never really just existed in the same space with her. It felt… almost nice.

“I wish we didn’t have to obiliviate them,” she said after awhile.

“The muggles?”

“The parents.” She glared at him. 

While he didn’t hold much in the way of prejudice anymore he still was cautious of muggles. They were dangerous and violent in ways that he couldn’t see. Just a few years ago a group executed a muggleborn wizard and his entire extended family, under claims of possession.

“It’s for the best.”

“Sure. The parents lose a child and all memory of happiness they had ever caused. Let’s say have another and end up finding out about the magical world when _that_ one gets their Hogwarts letter. They live their lives with just the occasional headache and the deep sadness when they pick up their _one_ child from the Hogwarts express, without understanding why it feels so incomplete. But _sure_ , as long as the magical world stays hidden, that’s good enough.”

She ranted and he let her. Ideological views aside, she looked like she needed it. He refilled their glasses.

“What would you propose we did otherwise? Invite them into the magical world, say their child was violently turned into a vampire and wish them luck with their new man eating spawn?”

“No. It’s just…”

“Just?”

“It’s hard. I’ve seen… I’ve seen what it does to people. They're never really the same.” He had forgotten that this was personal to her. It was a known thing around the office; that at barely seventeen Hermione Granger had obilviated her parents for the war and sent them away. When everything calmed down the healers were unable to recover their memories. A side effect of a novice obiliviation... and undeniably her fault.

“How are you parents?”

“You are such an arse.” She scowled and made to stand. 

“I was being genuine," he grumbled. 

She stared at him for a long moment, probably trying to suss out if he was lying. Eventually she sat back down but the wary look didn’t leave her eye. Draco scoffed.

“Believe it or not Granger. I am capable of empathy.”

“What a surprise.”

“Dreadful thing. Empathy,” he said, swirling his glass. “Makes me feel all sticky. Right up there with the feeling I get when I see a happy baby... Or a unicorn.”

He pulled a face that had her smiling weakly.

“So why are you here Malfoy?” she questioned after a moment, their glasses having run empty again. She seemed stable enough so he didn’t bother refilling them.

“I’ve just discovered a new law being passed through the ministry requiring all male purebloods to marry a muggleborn. I choose you,” he deadpanned.

He was rewarded with a giggle. Quite honestly, it was a rather sad sound, but it fit the room well enough. 

“I just saw your light. Figured there was no point in drinking alone," he admitted.

“Even when the company is bad?”

“Granger… I am the best company available.” He bowed lowly, taking note of the almost normal smile on her face. “Alas, all good nights must come to an end... That is, unless they become good morning.”

“Rake,” she spat. The tone didn’t reach her eyes as he headed to the door.

“Have a good night Granger.”

“Yeah… you too.”

000000000000000000000000000000

He dreaded the Ministry Christmas Gala. If his formative years under his mother’s hosting hadn’t already scarred him, he would have been committed to the insane asylum by now. The administrators had a bad habit of bandying him around the room as a testament to their ability to reform with the subtlety as a hippogriff on roller skates.... with cymbals tied to its wings.

When he finally escaped the clutches of the Minister's undersecretary he found himself casing the crowd for Granger. It had been a few weeks since the Vampire raid and while she seemed better around the office. He hadn’t really had a chance to talk to her. Not that he was particularly concerned about it, he just felt the tiniest bit responsible. He really should have just reported her for a mental inquiry and been done with it. But, he had made his choice and now he had to live with it.

Draco found her hiding from the adoring fans behind a horribly gauche ice statue of a… swan? Elephant? The thing was half melted and it was apparent no one had thought to cast a cooling charm on it.

“Granger.”

“Malfoy.”

“Enjoying the party?”

“Enjoying the attention?” she countered. 

She was wearing a fetching silver dress that tightened at her waist, hiding the auror build within the folds of fabric. His mother would be proud. If it weren’t for the girl in it.

“I find attention predictable and boring," he said.

“I find you predictable and boring.”

Draco smiled and shook his head. He had learned she only twisted words when she lacked something more clever to say.

“Any particular reason you’re hiding out over here?”

“I’m not hiding,” she spat. Her cheeks colored with the lie, highlighting the softness of her face.

“Right. Even though you are in an out-of-the-way corner of the room, behind a sculpture, in a space that has nothing entertaining happening in it, other than my wonderful conversation of course, you aren’t hiding.”

“I just don’t want to dance,” she sighed, leaning back against the cool marble of the wall.

“The auror force probably couldn’t take all injury leave from the broken toes.”

“Oh, shut it. I just don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea. The last time I danced with someone from the Department of Magical Games and Sports I spent months dodging his advances.”

“Well... you aren’t awful to look at when you keep your mouth shut. Were you silenced last the time?” She smacked his chest and he let her. After a few more songs spent in small talk he attacked.

“Well, you’ve begged enough, Granger. Have some self restraint. I suppose I could suffer a dance with you.”

“Pardon?” she baulked.

“Dance. I am sure you’ve read enough about it.”

“Why would you ever want to dance with me? Particularly when reporters are swarming the place.”

“Because..." He waved her forward conspiratorially. Granger rolled her eyes but leaned closer anyway to hear him whisper, "I have been brewing amortentia and I find that it smells just like you.”

"I see," she hummed. "And what do I smell like, Malfoy?" 

"Rose, honey, vanilla and something uniquely you."

She raised a singular thin eyebrow. Her lips pulled into that tight line she would use whenever she knew a suspect was lying to her and she was sick of it. Cautiously he leaned closer, taking a sniff near her hair and pulling his face into a mock grimace just as she did the same.

"Ink, hairspray and sweat. Good lord Granger, did you use all the product in England?" 

She laughed, and for the first time it was a normal laugh, warm and filled with mirth. He held out his hand and to his utter surprise she took it.

“What about your toes?” she challenged, raising an eyebrow as he guided them through the crowd.

“I’ll cast cushioning charms. It’s easier to prepare when you know thy enemy.”

“Prat.”

“Only to you.”

“Liar.”

“Well that’s to everybody.”

“You aren’t going to fall in love with me are you?” she questioned as he pulled her into the stilling figures just as a song came to the end. 

“Well you just called me a liar so I feel like there is no safe way to answer that question.” 

When the music started he linked his fingers through hers, slotting the other to curl around her waist. When she slipped her hand flat against his chest instead of around his waist he didn’t correct her. In a startling turn of events she actually let him lead and only stepped on his toes once.

“I’ve decided that you are like a puppy,” Hermione said after the first song had finished. She started to pull away but when he held her in place they moved into the next waltz with grace.

“Cute and everybody loves me,” he agreed.

“Annoying and I can’t get rid of you. Also a bit suffocating. Maybe an anaconda is a better simile.”

“Well I have been told I am quite good with my tongue. Want to test it out?” She barked a dry laugh as he spun them. This time when the song ended he forced himself to let her go.

“Thanks for the dance Malfoy.”

“Thanks for sparing my shoes.” She rolled her eyes but smiled, flouncing over to join Potter and Weasley. He ignored the hollow feeling ache in his chest as the Undersecretary found him again, dragging him off to meet yet another foreign ambassador.

00000000000000000000000

Panic fueled his muscles as he stumbled across the demolished warehouse. Draco knew when he received the SOS call that he would be diving into a bloodbath, but he hadn’t been prepared for the utter massacre he ported into. His fear made him sloppy and landed him in the healers tent once things had died down. They threw his arm in a cast since he refused to stay for observation.

Draco kicked a blood splattered pipe out of the way and cringed. It was rare that the SOS coin was activated, it was only used in the most dire of circumstances. He knew the only ones out that night were Hermione’s team so when the coin burned he had apparated without another thought.

The nest of dark wizards had been skittering through London wholly undetected. They were kidnapping muggles and burning them at the stake as sacrifices. The air was still filled with the smell of cooked human flesh. He forced down the bile and scanned the room. 

She was in the center, staring up at the sky through the hole in the roof that had been cut out to vent the smoke. Silent tears dripped down her cheeks, splattering onto her charred robes. She looked so small in the cavernous space. Wholly unlike every other time he interacted with her. Hermione Granger was a force of nature and seeing her like this was like watching a wildfire die out all at once. 

The sky boomed and it began to rain. Just a sprinkle at first, little drops kick up the ash around her in miniature mushroom-shaped clouds as the storm picked up. He waited until the drizzle washed away all the evidence on her face before stepping into the remains of the pyre.

“Granger?” he questioned softly, not wanting to scare her. She didn’t move. He wasn’t even sure she heard him. "Hermione?"

He called out twice more, until he was under the deluge of water with her, his hand on her shoulder.

“Why?” she questioned, her voice shaking and weak.

The aurors in the DMLE said watching the Hermione Granger duel was like watching wizard-kind peak. He wondered if any of them ever remembered her afterwards.

She had dueled like a monster, curses flinging from her wand without hesitation. As he fought his way to her side he saw no less than three wizards fall dead at her wand, one being viciously cut in half at the waist. She didn’t attack him though, too practiced in their training to mistake an ally for an enemy. So he fought behind her, covering her back as she tore through their ranks until there was no one left.

He had asked her once, why she didn’t use the killing curse. They were cleared to in life or death scenarios. She had simply sipped her coffee with a haunted look on her face as she told him that killing should never be easy. That it should never be clean.

“Hermione, love?”

“Why do we do this? Why do we hate each other so much?” He turned her toward him, her eyes shakenly meeting his. Merlin, there was so much blood. It stained her grey robes black and washed onto the floor dying the ash sludge pink. He guessed very little of it was hers.

“It is human to hate," he said "it’s what we're good at."

“Good because I hate _it_. I will hate it until the day I die and then I will hate it in death.” She sobbed audibly. Even though the rain was still coming down, plastering his shirt to his skin he couldn’t help but want to hide her. He pulled her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her strong frame while she cried. 

“I hate it! I hate it! I hate it!” she screamed into his shirt. Her rage burned against her skin and made her hot to the touch in the late winter rain. “I hate them. I hate what I’ve done. I hate that I can’t do a bloody thing to stop it. I hate everything.”

Draco offered no words as he held her, her hair streaming through his fingers like silk as it collected the water pouring down on them. By the time she was done, everywhere she wasn’t was frozen to the touch.

She pulled away slightly, her eyes rimmed in red and hair plastered to her scalp. The water beneath them had washed away most of the ash, erasing the evidence of those who had died here.

“Tell me something funny.”

“Granger I-”

“Please. I’ll go to medical after. I just… Tell me one of your stupid lies... please.”

He sighed and tucked her head back against his chest, letting her listen to his heartbeat as he thought. Their little game had become a habit of comfort somewhere along the way. He wasn't sure when that had happened.

“I’ve been bitten by a werewolf and you are my destined mate.”

She didn’t laugh. He didn’t really expect her to. But she let him pull her away from the storm. He cast a spell to wick away most of the water as they walked. By the time they arrived in medical, no one said a word to either of them.

0000000000000000000 

He watched her silently as she tore into Phillips. When she went on a tear it was a damn nearly holy thing to watch. When Phillips slunk away he was probably wishing it had been him with the brick foot instead of Jones. At least Jones would be back to normal by this afternoon. Having finished his ages ago he swiped her remaining coffee and took a sip. She always added too much sugar.

“I am surrounded by idiots," she huffed.

“Now that’s not a nice thing to say about Potter and Weasley. They try their best.”

“I’m still pissed. How could Phillips be so stupid as to disobey a direct order? He was lucky that Jones was able to grab him before he crossed the ward line.”

“Let it go Granger. You’ve sent him away with his tail tucked between his legs. It’s done.”

“Yeah but-”

“Cupid hit me with an arrow and I am suddenly unbelievably attracted to you. Wanna fuck?”

“You’re off your game,” she scoffed, a smile pulling at her lips.

“Yeah well, they can’t all be winners.”

“Clearly.” 

Hermione gathered up the last of her things from her desk and cast down the lights. He admired her movements as she cursed the stupidity of new recruiters, her hair bouncing around her in waves. Her lips were a blur as she babbled, pulled his attention as he nodded along. When she got like this, he found it best to just agree. She would forgive them in the morning. When she was finally ready to leave she favored him with a small smile.

"Thanks for listening."

"Of course," he responded.

Draco held the door open for her and they exited. They chatted about the mission planned for next week until they reached the atrium. She bid him goodnight and tossed a pinch of powder into the floo. He was so busy admiring the way the light reflected off her hair that he hadn’t realized he had said anything until it was already out.

“Let’s grab a drink.”

“Oh," she paused, "is the department having a meet up?”

“No.”

Hermione shook her head and smiled before throwing him a humoring look. It made his chest warm when she looked at him like that, like something so valuable to her.

“Did cupid come back?” she asked.

“What? Oh...No.” 

“Well go on then,” she said. When he didn't speak, her smile dropped into a frown and she made an impatient gesture with her hand. “I don’t actually live here, contrary to popular belief. Say your ridiculous joke so I can go home.”

His heart raced in his chest, so loudly he would swear she could hear it. They had both changed so much since school that he wouldn’t be able to recognize them. She stood with a hand on her hip, an amused grin painted across her face. She was strong, haughty, and a total pain in his ass. And yet, he found himself constantly looking for excuses to drop by her office. He would check up on her after missions, even the mundane ones. He kept an eye on her workload, and brought her meals on days where she would work straight through lunch and sometimes dinner. He wondered if she even noticed. 

“I- I think I may love you.”

She eyed him incredulously, clearly waiting for more. But for all his wit and humor he could come up with nothing else. He slid his hands into his pockets and just stared back. After a few more moments of silence she spoke again.

“That’s the best lie you’ve got? You _are_ really slipping Malfoy.” She started to leave and his hand shot out. His grip on her was light, meant to halt not hold. When she looked back he could see a mask of confusion on her face. Maybe tinged with a bit of fear. It was now or never.

“Maybe I’m not lying," he breathed.

She blinked at him, her mouth dropping into the shape of a small ‘o’ before she shut it again. After a moment of silence he dropped her hand, intending to let her disappear in the flames. If he started on the transfer papers now he could be in another department by morning. She chewed her lip lightly before nodding her head.

“Right then. Want to get some dinner?”

He breathed out a sigh of relief, releasing the tension in his shoulders he wasn’t aware he was carrying. Schooling himself back into something with more grace than a love struck teenager he slid his hand into his pocket and smirked.

“Only if you’re buying.”

  
"I thought you were a gentleman," she quipped.  
  
  


"I thought I was a liar." 

Hermione bit her lip glancing at his own. The action made his heart race.

"Are you?"

"Not this time." 

Draco stepped forward resting his hand on her lower back to guide her into the floo. He ignored how warm she felt on his fingertips, focusing on trying to school his face into something genuine. It must have worked because she smiled, leaning into him slightly.

"You know... I think I'm inclined to believe you."

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this one check out my completed work, "The Potioneers". If you like my style of writing but also like smut trash check out my WIP's "Controlled Burn" and "Moon Struck".
> 
> Also please note. I have poked fun at a couple tropes/ prompts in this fic. This is all in good fun (Moonstruck is literally a werewolf pack quad fic, I mean come on). Please write what you love and we will all enjoy it just the same.
> 
> p.s I suck at summaries and I am sorry. If any of you can do better please let me know and I will credit you accordingly.


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